Book of Yeesha
by Misti Wolan
Summary: Yeesha disagrees with her father, Atrus. And the new D'Ni will suffer for it. (I've NOT played the games—I've only read the first three books. This is a sideline story of mine, so updates are rare.)
1. Prologue

Disclaimer:  
I don't have rights to any of this. I'm just playing with Yeesha and some others.  
  
Author's Note:  
I have_ not _played the games.  
I have only read the books—well, the first three, if there are any more out, now…  
I got my main character from reading the back of the newest Myst game at Wal-Mart (which I don't have any rights to, either).  
You like this story enough to want more, ask and I'll post more. If not… Well, I guess the "Prologue" will get pretty lonely…  
I'll gladly take positive or negative reviews. Just watch your language, and I won't mind what you say. Seriously.  
Enjoy! :)

* * *

Prologue

She moved swiftly, her dark cloak making her one more silent shadow in this city of the dead.  
"_Yeesha_!"  
Her name rang out, echoing from stone. She ignored it.  
"Yeesha, please! Think about what you're doing!"  
_ I _am_ thinking, Father. Clearly._  
The voice came from the torches, alien in the dimmed underfoot lighting. "Your mother's dying!"  
_ Mother's been dying since my birth. I've said my good-byes._  
"Come home!"  
The shadowy figure paused. _What is 'home', Father? What can you mean by 'Come home,' but 'Return to your family that you might frustrate us more'?_  
"_Yeesha_!" her father cried again, despairingly.  
"I doubt she's here, Master Atrus," Eedrah said softly, the stones bringing his voice as a whisper to her ear. "Herin's Books—"  
"Yes," Atrus interrupted, pain sharpening his voice. "The accursed Linking Books and Ages Herin stole from another civilization." A haunted tone followed. "All that remain joining us with our dead ancestors."  
_ What defines 'dead'?_ she wondered as she continued away.  
Father's sadness carried in the dark. "I do not want to wait for her return."  
"We have no choice. To find the Book she used after this one would take a very large group."  
Atrus sighed. "And we cannot let that many know just how many Books have escaped destruction."  
Resignedly, the twosome headed back to the Linking Book that would take them home, their fading shuffles and dimming torches alerting Yeesha to this fact.  
A wry smile played her lips. Yeesha, daughter of Atrus and Katran, granddaughter of Gehn, great-granddaughter of Aitrus and Ti'ana, moved deeper into the dead city of D'ni.

* * *

Author's Reminder:  
You want more, you'll have to review to get it. ) 


	2. 1

Author's Note:  
Next chapter isn't finished, so I don't know how long it'll take. But if you want me to post it when it's done, please review.  
Thanks, korinth, for reviewing. I've implemented your suggestions.  
Enjoy! :)

* * *

**1**

"…So the D'ni as a rule were proud, and such was their downfall. The wonders, the feats of their civilization only added to that pride."  
"But you learned about them. You didn't get proud, did you?"  
Atrus's face softened at his small daughter's keen question. "No, for my grandmother carefully guarded me against that."  
"Then why don't we use it?" pressed Yeesha.  
Her father's confusion showed in a mild frown. "Explain."  
"Why didn't we take the D'ni technology? Not their civilization; not even all of it. Why don't we have a single aspect of their achievements?"  
Atrus nodded respectfully, appreciating his daughter's sharp mind as he always did. "Because it was all D'ni technology. It would not have been our own."  
"But we could've changed it to suit our purposes. Borrowed ideas already discovered."  
Her father smiled faintly. "It would still not be ours," he said simply, and resumed his teaching.

• • •

And so, from her seventh year onward, Yeesha and her father disagreed.  
Her arguments shifted from humoring her father to frustrating him. Not a class went by, it seemed, where she didn't criticize some aspect of his lecture.  
"But why go through the same inventing process? It's like reinventing the wheel because our people group didn't invent it, itself."  
"The wheel is an invention common to all peoples. Ages aren't."  
"How can we know the wheel is in common unless we interact with other peoples? And how could it have spread barring the sharing of technology with less advanced cultures?"  
"Sharing universally helpful tools is one thing. Sharing potentially dangerous techniques is another."  
"Are you calling Ages dangerous?"  
"Of course." Her father's gaze was mild. "Look what they did to my father."  
"Who was raised with just enough D'ni civilization to make him proud, and not enough of it to keep him sane."  
The rest of the class tended to ignore the debates between father and daughter, though a few clung to every word.  
Yeesha's sickly mother Catherine was ashamed of her daughter's audacious behavior. "Can you not respect your father?"  
"But I do respect him," the nine-year-old insisted. "I just think there's something wrong with his ideas."  
"Then question him in private!" cried her mother. "Why must you cause discord?"  
Yeesha frowned, perplexed. "What discord? Our debates have nothing to do with the masses."  
"The masses still hear them."  
"And they no doubt laugh at the girl rude enough to question her own father—and a renowned father, at that." This public disapproval of her actions kept her from having friends. The other children were forbidden to speak with her.  
"Then why do you do it?" Mother's voice sounded tired, frail.  
Yeesha carelessly shrugged. "Just the scientist in me, I guess. Question everything."  
Her mother sounded disappointed. "I see."  
Yeesha kept arguing.

• • •

"Yeesha?" a hidden voice whispered.  
An exited trill went up her spine. "Yes?" she returned in the same tone.  
"Insolent daughter of Atrus?"  
Yeesha laughed. "That would be me."  
A boy stuck his head out from behind the boxes, glancing around. "Come on," he said quickly. "My father wants to meet you."  
And so she met Pello, son of Herin.  
Herin, getting on in years, greeted her warmly. "Any defender of D'ni is welcome here." The odd gleam in his eye intrigued her.  
"I'm the only one," Yeesha sprightly admitted. "But thanks."  
Herin chuckled. "So you think, dear. So you think."  
This disturbed the girl. Was she really stirring the discord her mother said she was? Nonetheless, she took Herin up on his offer.

• • •

One day Herin had called together a group of friends. "Come, child," he beckoned to her. "Tell us grayhairs your reasonings."  
Yeesha spoke carefully, not criticizing her father in any way. She refused to turn the people against her father. She may disagree with him, but she would not have him overthrown. She could see his reasons for doing most of what he did, and wise ones they were. But were not risks involved with any advancement?  
This thought she kept completely to herself.  
During the discussion, she noticed a D'ni symbol on Herin's table, exposed by a rip in the tablecloth.  
Curious, she swiftly brushed the cloth aside, glimpsing the other words and committing them to memory. Though Father insisted that they were entirely separate from D'ni, they used the same language and writing—learned such from the same book, too: the Rehevkor.  
As quickly as she moved the cloth, Herin's son Pello swept it back, fear in his eyes.  
Her amiable smile and chatter didn't waver, and she nodded at Pello. She glanced at Herin, seeing that he'd missed the encounter. Good, for Pello's expression had told Yeesha what the old D'ni chest held.  
Books.

• • •

With much prodding and threatening Yeesha got Pello to let her see them.  
They managed it at a festival. Everyone was out enjoying themselves, so it was quite easy for them to sneak back to his dwelling. Uneasily, he opened the chest.  
Yeesha gasped, seeing more than she'd expected. Indeed, the chest was filled as tightly as possible with nothing but—  
She lifted the vial from among the books. "D'ni ink," she whispered in awe. Yeesha shot Pello a daring grin and poured a few drops of the precious ink into one of the test tubes she kept on hand.  
Pello gulped.  
Swiftly, she thumbed through the books, skimming the descriptive panel until she came across what she wanted.  
"See this?" she showed him the flaw. "This Age is unstable."  
And with that, she tore a page from the Book. Pello's eyes grew wide, and he paled. He swallowed, made a little sound, but didn't rise to the challenge her face offered.  
Mildly disappointed, she buried the marred book at the bottom. "Keep your father out of that one."  
"He's never in them," whispered Pello.  
Yeesha shrugged, and left with her treasures.

• • •

At first her new obsession worried her father.  
"Why do you study ink-making, Yeesha?"  
"It fascinates me, Father, how different inks dry differently, color differently, age differently."  
He had accepted her explanation, but her mother hadn't.  
"Beware of your grandfather's footsteps, Yeesha."  
However Mother had linked Yeesha to the megalomanic Gehn, she'd never discovered. It did make her think before she acted, evaluating everything to make sure she wasn't following her grandfather's footsteps.  
Yeesha absorbed her studies, learning the main of ink-making within a few years, Pello following suit. Her next area of study heightened her father's concern.  
"Why study bookmaking? Is it not enough to let others make the paper you write on?"  
"No," Yeesha replied. "For this, too, fascinates me."  
Atrus's eye was on her almost constantly from that time forward. Knowing Yeesha's love for writing, he feared what she would do with that ability.  
By eighteen, she had learned the basics of both ink and book making, filling journals with all possible details. She'd also developed her own version of the ancient D'ni formula. All she needed was to test it.

• • •

It took a year, but she was able to quietly have a book made with her paper and a vial filled with her ink.  
Yeesha decided not to bother with copying a forbidden Age as a test—it would take too much time; be too big. She would write two Linking Books herself. One to go somewhere; the other to return. If she had it wrong, neither would work. If she had it right, both would work, barring flaws in her own writing.  
By the next year's Festival, she had both books ready. On that day, she disappeared.  
Taking other peoples' things with her.  
  



	3. 2

Author's Note:

I've been holding onto this for an extra two months or so, since I can't remember the name of Atrus's family age. (Not Gemedet—the one they almost lose for him teaching Ti'ana to write.) My friend lost the Myst book she's borrowing from me & so I might as well ask you readers... I also need the name for where Eedrah's from, if anyone has it. Thanks! :)

Thanks, **Audreidi**, for your much-needed input :) ...I've been trying to figure out how to put that in there ever since you gave me that review & think it might be easier to have a little more material to work with, first, since I don't want the reader completely inside Yeesha's head...

Sorry for losing you, **Taren Whin Dosgeno** (though I doubt you'll ever read more of this)—or should I call you Bandit? Thanks for the encouragement & see you elsewhere.

Chapter three isn't even started yet, & as I've said before, this is _not_ my main fanfic—it's just an idle bystander, really. So expect a _very_ long wait. (I hate stories like this, myself, but I'm sorry! I'm only one person & have an overactive imagination which I overindulge with started stories! Including my original, I have 13 stories going—& then my craft projects are in a similar or worse state...)

I have three rules for reviewers:

-1. Don't blaspheme.

-2. Don't swear.

-3. Don't even cuss. If that's the only way you can adequately express yourself, you need to read more published works. (No, comics don't count.)

I have one request for reviewers: be blunt. I don't care if it ends up a flame—I want your input.

Enjoy! :)

* * *

— **2 —**

_'An Age describes a world that did exist, exists or shall.'_

Her great-grandfather's quote echoed in her mind. Her theory lay within. Was anything wrong with this definition of an Age, her efforts would be futile, producing unstable Linking Books more likely to cause her death than anything else.

Yeesha brushed a bang out of her eye. Though only one-eighth D'ni, she had inherited the unusually light coloration and angular thinness common to her great-grandfather's people. As for her eyes... Her light eyes _almost_ looked D'ni.

The problem was, they didn't.

Their whitewashed gray color was laced with the green common to her great-grandmother and mother. Outsiders.

Her eyesight was only slightly weaker than theirs, not enough to genuinely need the special D'ni lenses used to filter out sunlight. This could present a problem. If her scheme worked...

She could destroy her very existence.

Yeesha huffed, blowing another misbehaving bang from her face. She'd come up with the theory years ago, but had been unable to explore it. Her father had kept a close eye on her, so she'd been careful not to put any hints in her journals as to what she wanted to do. Meeting Pello had changed all that. She'd could go somewhere where no one would find her, and explore.

As for _acting_ on her theory...

She wasn't sure if she wanted to risk it.

That would involve more than just _her_ life, after all.

Yeesha smiled bitterly. Yes, that would be the perfect climax to her grandfather's actions. Play goddess and destroy not just her world, but generations' existence?

Care, therefore, characterized all her actions. Though the people back home undoubtedly considered her flight hasty and irrational, she knew otherwise.

She had to be alone. Purely alone, with no one anywhere close to her work.

Three skeletons sat around the table, their hands clasped in the love they shared while dying. These macabre neighbors she welcomed, for the dead told no tales.

She found it relaxing, as well, to study the plague that had destroyed D'ni, sparing her grandfather because of his mixed blood.

Yeesha was comfortable with death, for she'd long expected her own. The slightest misphrasing or damage in a Book could kill her. Unstable worlds could easily kill the visitor, as could poisonous atmospheres, unexpected predators...

"Toxic foods, alkali water..." Yeesha unwittingly muttered to herself as she worked, penning carefully in a mere copybook to plan for the all-important Linking Book. A Linking Book that would be unlike any other ever written.

She reached for one of the many old notebooks at her side, flipping the pages till she found the right one and carefully wrote a few words down.

Yeesha wondered how long it would take for her father to miss this particular journal, the first one he'd ever written. It was painful reading at times, especially while Atrus had been convinced to blame his grandmother for D'ni's fall and when he realized his father was mad.

The next notebook she chose was decades older than all the rest. She smiled, knowing her father would be frantic for its whereabouts. A hand she now recognized with ease had marked on this journal: _The Book of Aitrus_.

Great-grandfather's journal, filled with his notes on how to get to the surface. She planned to go there, to get an idea for where her great-grandmother, Ti'ana, had lived; where her father had grown up. Afterwards, she would return this to her father, give him back his one link to his grandparents.

Her taking the journals had not risen out of selfish ambition; on the contrary, she'd left her father a note saying she'd borrowed some of his books for her own safety. Had he not been so against her coming to D'ni, he would have allowed her to take them, she was sure.

What _did_ her father have against the D'ni Books? There was more to it than his weak "not our culture" argument, surely?

Yeesha sighed, and kept working on her masterpiece.

* * *

_Tap tap tap!_

Yeesha groaned as she awoke, lifting her head from her arms.

_Tap tap tap!_

She leapt to her feet, grabbing a vial from her belt. She'd hoped not to need its calmative contents, but if someone came...

_Tap tap tap!_

Yeesha frowned, eyes narrowing. That sounded suspiciously like—

"Hey Yeesha, want some—"

She bowled him over, restraining and muffling him. "You fool!" she hissed in his ear. "They'll send another search party for you! These stones carry sound!"

"Didn't you ask me to come with you?" Pello's muffled voice came through her sleeve.

"When _I_ left, yes. Now they'll search twice as hard."

"But they won't find us, will they? This isn't K'Veer."

"No, it's just the Ink-Making district."

Thankfully, she didn't have to spell it out to him. Her grandfather had been an apprentice here. "Oh." Pello slowly got up. "Sorry. Want me to go back?"

Yeesha rubbed her eyes. "How long did it take you to find me?" She'd given him a list of where she might go. Mentally she reminded herself to change camps.

"Uh... A day or two. ...I think."

She sighed. "It's too late, then. You'll have to stay." _As much good you'll do me._

"Thanks!"

The idiot couldn't even see that she didn't have a choice. "You're welcome."

Her sarcasm was completely lost on the recipient. Pello was already eyeing the journals stacked by the desk, and the huge knapsack she'd brought with her.

"Never mind," she grumbled. "Help me pack."

"You're going back?"

She resisted the urge to slap him. "We're breaking camp." There went her trip to the surface. "It'll be harder for them to follow us if we're in an Age."

Pello visibly paled. "Don't we need a Linking Book?"

"Any Maintainer-approved Age will already have one, but yes, I have an extra."

His response was to dump her lab kit in a bag.

* * *

"Watch it!"

She caught his swinging arm, glaring at her unwanted assistant. "When I said that stuff's fragile, I meant it."

Pello glanced sheepishly aside. "Sorry," he mumbled, and carried the lab equipment more carefully. "Where are we, anyway?"

Pello looked at her blankly.

Yeesha sighed. "It's my family's Age."

"My dad had it?"

"No." She didn't tell him that she'd written this Linking Book from the descriptions in her family journals. It _was_ , too—the Linking Book back to D'ni identified it as such. A minor victory, compared to what she wanted to accomplish, but it was a step forward in recovering the lost Ages.

"Pello?"

"Uh... yeah?"

"If you ever find a journal or notebook, bring it to me."

He blinked, his eyes barely visible behind his D'ni glasses. "Don't you just want Books?"

She shook her head, saving her breath. "Here looks good."

"Looks good for what?"

Yeesha sighed. "Camp."

* * *

"Two moves underneath..."

Pello jolted awake. "Huh?"

Purple rings surrounded Yeesha's eyes. "Go back to sleep," she grumbled.

The alert Pello stared with wide eyes at the three-demensional cube before her. "What's that?"

"Gemedet."

"The D'ni game?" His voice was awed. "Where'd you find it?"

"J'Taeri."

Pello blinked. "Huh?"

"Back in D'ni. Where the wealthy ink-makers lived."

"You mean the ink-making district?"

"I _mean_ J'Taeri." Yeesha didn't favor him with so much as a glance. "That's what I _said_, isn't it?"

"Uh, yes..."

"Then that's what I _meant_."

"Right," he yawned. "When's breakfast?"

"Whenever you make it."

Pello blinked. "You're pretty grumpy," he commented. She looked at him, her purple eyes speaking more than any words. "But—but that's okay," he said quickly. "I'll manage."

She refocused on the game. Tweezers in hand, she carefully dropped another stone chip in place...

Bread landed beside her. Still chomping his own, Pello sat across from her. "How do you play?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out."

He eyed the 3-D board. "Looks like you gotta get... one, two, three..."—he counted the places across—"six in a line."

"I _know_ that. I'm working on proper technique, now."

He swallowed, frowning. "Technique?"

"How to properly hold the tweezers, common strategies, et cetera." She dropped another piece in. "This way when I meet another D'ni, my mannerisms won't scream 'Outsider'."

"But there _aren't_ any more D'ni!" laughed Pello. "We're all that's left! Everyone else is dead!"

He suddenly gave Yeesha a measureing look. "You're not going to reopen where Eedran's from, are you?"

"Of course not."

He scratched his head. "Then what are you going to _do_?"

Yeesha smiled slightly. She didn't reply.


End file.
